Fading Sparks
by Sidekicks-anonymous
Summary: The prison break was resolved years ago; the team has returned to Cybertron, and Sideswipe has moved on with his life. New adventures now await him and his growing family.
1. Grandpa

"Are you ready for this?"

"You've asked me that ten times now, Windy." Sideswipe chastised, though his tone was good-natured. Windblade shrugged. They were walking for once, instead of racing in their vehicle forms. Going on foot allowed them to be side-by-side—and it let Sideswipe keep an eye on the bundle in his arms.

"This is a big step," Windblade said. She threaded one arm through his, careful not to disturb the bundle. "I keep wondering if it's really the right thing to do."

"Hey—since when have you been afraid of anything?" Sideswipe elbowed his sparkmate playfully. "We can do this, Windy. Just think of it as an adventure."

Windblade cracked a smile. "It's certainly an adventure for Knockout."

"You're not kidding. I haven't seen him this excited since—well, since ever." Sideswipe smirked as they rounded a corner and their home came into view—along with a red sports car idling by the entrance. "Speak of the devil."

Windblade giggled. "I'll go get some low-grade ready for the little one. You get Gramps calmed down." She pecked him on the cheek and approached the house. Sideswipe came close behind her.

Knockout changed to his bipedal mode as soon as he saw them. "Finally!" He exclaimed, hurrying over. "Let me see, let me see!"

"What's the magic word?" Sideswipe teased. But he shifted the bundle so Knockout could see it. A tiny orange sparkling peered out at the medic. He wiggled his little doorwings, blue optics wide with curiosity.

"Look at him." Knockout breathed. "He's perfect. May I—?"

Sideswipe transferred the sparkling into his guardian's arms. Knockout bounced the bitlet gently. "What's his name?"

"Hot Rod."

"Hot Rod." Knockout repeated, relishing the sound of it. He met the sparkling's gaze. "Well, Hot Rod, you should know that as the guardian of your guardian, it is my solemn duty to spoil you rotten." He raised a hand as if taking an oath. "I swear to fulfill that duty to the best of my abilities."

Hot Rod gurgled happily. Sideswipe rolled his optics. "Dad, you're a dork."

"Nope. I'm a grandpa."


	2. Sleep

**A/N: Chapter 2! I'm taking a break on Yin and Yang, so expect quick updates for this story. Also, there's a poll on my profile-once you're done reading, give your opinion!**

* * *

Sideswipe had faced zealots, mad scientists, violent criminals—even the Fallen Prime himself. But he found his current opponent more challenging than any of them.

"C'mon, Roddy, go back to sleep! Please?" His pleas went unheeded by the sparkling in his arms. It was the middle of the night; Sideswipe was already exhausted from a day of work. And then Hot Rod had decided to start fussing. He showed no signs of stopping, though Sideswipe had done everything he could think of to pacify him. He was tempted to wake up Windblade and let her have a turn. But no—he'd told her he could handle the problem and he wasn't about to give up now.

"Calm down, Roddy. Daddy's here. You're fine." He cooed, bouncing the sparkling gently. Hot Rod responded by smacking him and letting out another wail. Sideswipe sighed. That was it; it was time for drastic measures. Reluctantly, he dialed his guardian's comm number.

After a full minute of ringing, Knockout picked up. "Sides…? Do you have any idea how late it is?" He asked groggily.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I just need some advice on getting Hot Rod to sleep. He woke up about an hour ago, and he's been crying ever since. I've tried lullabies, energon, toys—nothing works! What should I do?"

Sideswipe waited as Knockout let out a long, leisurely yawn. "…I have no idea."

"What?!" Sideswipe exclaimed. "Didn't you ever deal with this when I was a sparkling?"

"Nope. You'd already had your first upgrade when I adopted you. I wasn't there for your newspark stage."

Sideswipe groaned. "Great. What am I supposed to do now?"

"For starters, you should open the door."

"Huh?" Sideswipe jumped as someone rapped softly on the front door. He opened it, incredulous. A tired-looking Knockout stood on the doorstep. Hot Rod let out an excited burble as he saw him, while Sideswipe simply stood dumbfounded.

"Hand him here." Knockout ordered, reaching for Hot Rod. "If we can't figure this out between the two of us, we don't deserve to be guardians."

Sideswipe slumped in relief, though he tried to hide it. "You didn't have to come over," he murmured as he passed the eager sparkling to his grandfather.

"I know I didn't. Now, tell me again what you've tried so far."


	3. Electrifying

Sideswipe reclined in his favorite chair. He let out a soft groan of pleasure. It was wonderful to get the weight off his pedes. His legs felt like they were about to fall off.

"Da-da?"

"Just a sec, Hot Rod. Daddy needs a minute." He replied wearily. Hot Rod pouted, but he went back to playing with his toy cars. Sideswipe offlined his optics. He wanted a nap so bad, but he couldn't leave Hot Rod unattended. The sparkling had a sixth sense for dangerous things, and sought them out with uncanny accuracy. Sideswipe had complained about it to Knockout the other day. The older mech had only smirked and told him "what goes around comes around."

Jerk.

Sideswipe sighed. At least he had a slight respite now. He settled deeper into the chair. It was so comfortable… he let himself slip into the dreamlike state between wakefulness and recharge. He'd have to get up soon, but he could enjoy a short rest. It was nice to have a moment of peace and quiet…

…Wait.

Hot Rod was never this quiet.

"Roddy?" Sideswipe sat up, shaking off the sleepiness. The toy cars sat a few feet away, abandoned. Their owner was nowhere to be seen.

"Hot Rod? Roddy?!" Sideswipe searched the room frantically. There was no sign on the little red sparkling. He leapt up and dashed into the next room. He breathed in relief when he saw Hot Rod by the wall, holding something. That relief vanished as he realized the sparkling was examining a power conduit from a nearby appliance. He had a hungry gleam in his optics that Sideswipe had seen too many times.

"Roddy, put that down!" He shouted, lunging for the sparkling. Too late; Hot Rod brought the conduit to his mouth and chomped on it.

The conduit crackled. The smell of ozone filled the air. Sideswipe snatched up the sparkling, his fingers tingling as sparks danced over Hot Rod's tiny frame. Hot Rod gasped and released the cable as he was yanked up. His optics were dim.

"Roddy?!" Sideswipe cradled the sparkling close. _Please let him be all right. Please, oh please let him be all right—_

As if hearing his silent prayer, Hot Rod's optics lit back up. He stared into space dazedly, mouth forming a little O. Then—to Sideswipe's shock—he giggled.

"Mo', Da-da!" He chirped, optics sparkling eagerly. "Want mo'!"

* * *

Knockout examined Hot Rod carefully, with all the thoroughness of a soldier defusing a bomb. Windblade and Sideswipe stood close, waiting anxiously for his verdict. Hot Rod seemed oblivious to the tension in the air. He sat quietly on the table, absorbed in the energon sweet his grandpa had given him.

Finally, Knockout straightened up. "He's fine."

"Are you sure?" Windblade asked breathlessly.

"I've scanned every inch of him, done every test I can think of. There's no damage whatsoever. His spark rate's a bit higher than usual, but still within the safe range. He's perfectly fine."

The young parents sighed in relief. Windblade scooped up the sparkling in her arms and planted a kiss on his helm. "You gave us a scare, l'il mister."

"I'll do something about those power conduits—put them somewhere he can't reach." Sideswipe said. "I'm just glad he's okay."

"He was very lucky." Knockout tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Although…there might be another factor involved."

Sideswipe frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The complete lack of damage is unusual—one might even say miraculous. More than mere luck could account for. It's possible Hot Rod has some natural resistance to energy surges."

Windblade's optics widened. "You mean…He's an outlier?"

"Perhaps. It's a bit too early to tell from spark readings. And without further data, we have no proof this was anything more than sheer luck." Knockout rubbed Hot Rod's helm. "But you might have a very special sparkling on your hands."

Sideswipe smiled. "He was always special to us."

* * *

 **A/N: I read a story where Hot Rod is super-resistant to heat, even able to create flames if he wants. I don't know if that's canon, but I liked the idea, so I'm using it.  
Reviews make me happy!**


	4. Transformation

"You can do it, Roddy. Just focus on changing from one form to another."

Hot Rod scrunched his face up in concentration. He stood still as a statue, his frame trembling with effort. After a long minute, he slumped in defeat.

"I can't do it, Daddy!" He sobbed, tears filling his optics. "I can't tans-fowm!"

"It's okay, Roddy; you're doing fine." Sideswipe hugged the distraught sparkling. "It takes time to figure out transformation. Just try again."

Hot Rod pouted. "Don't wanna. Tans-fowming is dumb."

Sideswipe smirked. He recalled feeling similar frustration when he first learned to transform. But any thoughts about transforming being "dumb" would vanish the second Hot Rod managed to shift into his alt-mode. "It could be worse, you know," he told his son. "Seekers teach their sparklings to fly by tossing them off buildings."

Hot Rod stared. "…Weally?"

"Really. Mommy had to learn that way. This may not be as fast, but it's a lot less scary."

Hot Rod sniffled. "But I'm not learning…"

"You will. It just takes time. Why don't you try again? Just once more?"

"…Otay." Hot Rod concentrated again, clenching his little fists. Several long moments passed, and the child made no signs of transforming.

 _Time for drastic measures,_ Sideswipe thought. Without warning, he reached out and tipped the sparkling over. Hot Rod squeaked in surprise as he fell. As his arms pinwheeled to regain his balance, they began contorting. A second later, a miniature Lamborghini plopped onto the ground. Hot Rod sat speechless.

"I doed it!" He shouted, finally realizing what happened. He zipped in circles around Sideswipe, engine revving excitedly. "I doed it, I doed it!"

He stopped, remembering something. "You pushed me!" He said accusingly.

Sideswipe shrugged. "It was your grandpa's idea. He said falling might trigger the transformation reflex. It worked, didn't it?"

Hot Rod considered that. "…Yeah. Otay." He perked up. "Wet's go show Mommy!"

"Great idea." Sideswipe shifted into vehicle mode and followed the tiny car as it zipped toward the house.

* * *

 **If anyone has a scene they'd like to see written, please share it in a review or PM! I'm looking for more ideas right now.**


	5. One Night Off

"Behave for your grandpa, Hot Rod." Sideswipe reminded his son as they drove up to Knockout's home. "He's an old mech and he doesn't have as much energy as Mommy and Daddy."

Windblade snorted at that, but didn't say anything. Hot Rod bounced on his wheels excitedly while Sideswipe knocked.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite sparkling!" Knockout exclaimed as he opened the door. "Hey, Roddy."

"Hi, Gwampa!" Hot Rod transformed and leapt into his grandfather's arms. Knockout spun him around once before setting the child on his shoulders.

"You sure you want to take him for the night?" Windblade asked one last time. "He can be a handful."

"He can't be any worse than Sides was." Knockout assured them, seeming unfazed by the sparkling crawling over his helm. "You two go enjoy a night off—I've got this."

"Thanks again, Dad. Bye, Roddy!" Sideswipe and Windblade bade farewell to their charge and left. Windblade kept glancing back as they walked away.

"You think he can handle Roddy?" She whispered, anxiety in her voice.

"You heard him—he's pumped about this. Besides, he took good enough care of me when I was Roddy's age. There's nothing to worry about."

Windblade sighed. "I guess not… I just can't help but worry. I don't know what's happened to me, Sides. I never used to worry this much."

"Raising a sparkling does things to you." Sideswipe said. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. "Just try to relax. Tonight is for the two of us—you and me."

Windblade leaned into his embrace, letting out a little sigh of contentment. "You're right. I mean, what could go wrong in one night?"

* * *

The couple gaped in disbelief at the sight before them.

"I can't _believe_ you did this without asking us!" Windblade snapped, giving Knockout a death glare. "What were you thinking?!"

"Well, I was touching up my paint, and Roddy wanted me to fix his too, and one thing led to another." Knockout shrugged. "I don't see what the big deal is. It's just a paintjob."

"I wook fabuwous!" Hot Rod chimed in.

Sideswipe sputtered. "A paintjob is one thing, but—flames? On a sparkling?! Doesn't that seem a bit excessive?"

"Fwames make me go fastah." Hot Rod said matter-of-factly.

"There you go. Can't argue with that logic." Knockout gave them his most charming grin, one that Hot Rod mirrored. Sideswipe sighed, rubbing his face. Primus, he hated being the responsible one… maturity came with too many headaches.


	6. Memorial

**A/N: to anyone who received an update alert: I decided the latest chapter needed to come earlier chronologically. The new chapter is chapter 4, "Transformation." Hope you enjoy it!**

Hot Rod shivered in the cold breeze. He snuggled deeper into his guardian's embrace, absorbing the warmth from his frame. He didn't like the cold. He didn't like the place where they were walking, either. Ramshackle huts spread in ruins as far as the optic could see, and there were no other bots in sight besides his guardian and his grandpa. It was creepy.

"Why is we here, Daddy?" He asked, shivering again. He knew he had gotten the words wrong—he was still integrating his recent language upgrades—but for once, neither Sideswipe nor Knockout corrected him.

"We come here every year to visit Grandpa's old friends," Sideswipe said gently. Hot Rod looked around. It didn't look like anyone lived here; who could they be visiting?

"Where is they?" He inquired, this time speaking to his grandpa. Knockout smiled at him, but it didn't seem quite real to the sparkling. There was sadness in his optics like Hot Rod had never seen before.

"Visit isn't really the right term. 'Remember' would be more accurate." Knockout explained. "My friends died a long time ago."

Hot Rod frowned. The concept of death had been explained to him—after the unfortunate accident with his pet cyber-roach—but it was still hard to wrap his young mind around. "So…they's in the Allspark?" He said tentatively, remembering what his guardians had told him.

"That's right; they're in the Allspark." Knockout stopped walking. They'd reached the remains of a larger building—it seemed to be the biggest structure here. There were two large girders buried upright in the ground like poles. They had glyphs on them that Hot Rod couldn't read. Seeing them seemed to make Knockout even sadder.

"Sideswipe, do you think I could…have a moment alone?" He whispered.

"Yeah—sure, Dad. Come on, Roddy." Sideswipe walked a short distance away. Hot Rod watched Knockout over his shoulder. His grandpa had his back turned to them. As Hot Rod watched, he knelt on the filthy ground in front of the girders. He was definitely going to get his paint dirty.

"Why is we leaving?"

"We're not leaving. We're just letting Grandpa have some privacy."

"Why did we come if he wants pri-va-see?" Hot Rod asked, more confused than ever. His guardian sighed—the sigh he made when he didn't have answers.

"It's hard to explain, Roddy. Grandpa really misses his friends. They were the only family he had before us. So he likes to be by himself and remember when the three of them were together. But," Sideswipe continued, "Remembering makes him sad, so we have to be here to remind him that he's not alone."

Hot Rod mulled that over. "Why does he remember if it makes-es him sad?"

"Because...it's better than not remembering at all" Sideswipe fell silent. After a few minutes, Knockout got up again and came back to them.

"I'm ready to go. Thank you for coming with me," he said. His smile was more genuine now, but he still looked sad. Hot Rod didn't like it when people were sad. He wriggled in his Sideswipe's grasp, reaching for Knockout until his guardian passed him into the other mech's arms.

"It's okay, Grampa." He whispered, wrapping his arms around the medic's neck. "Your other friends are safe and happy in the Allspark, just like Roachy is. And Mommy and Daddy and I are all here with you still. So you don't have to be sad."

His grandpa was silent for a moment. Then he returned the sparkling's embrace. "It's very hard to be sad when you're around, bitlet." He murmured with a smile.

* * *

 ***  
** **A/N: In retrospect, this chapter might have been more fitting for Memorial Day. But I'd still like to dedicate it to all the American veterans who've served my country. I can't imagine what hardships you've gone through, but I can appreciate your sacrifice.**

 **The ruins are the remains of the mining camp Knockout and Breakdown used to work in. The "graves" belong to Breakdown and Steelcharger, Knockout's pre-war mentor (a non-canon character-those of you who have read "Vultures" will remember him). Steelcharger's was made right after his death; Breakdown's was added when the war ended and they returned to Cybertron. Knockout visits them every year, and Sideswipe usually goes with him.**


	7. Love at First Bite

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. Adulthood gets in the way sometimes...ugh.**  
 **Chapter idea courtesy of Vanessa Masters. Thanks, Vanessa!**

* * *

"Why don't you have a sparkmate?"

Knockout squirmed under his grandson's questioning stare. The query had come out of nowhere as they were walking through the marketplace. "Why do you ask?" he replied hesitantly.

Hot Rod shrugged. "Just wondered. Why don't you?"

"Honestly…I never really thought about it. The war didn't leave any time for courting, and after it ended, I had my hands full raising Sideswipe. He kept me too busy to worry about a sparkmate."

Hot Rod mulled that over. "But Daddy's grown up now. Couldn't you get a sparkmate now?"

"Nowadays I'm busy with _you_ , bitlet." Knockout said, playfully rubbing his helm. "Besides, I'm not too worried about it."

Hot Rod persisted. "Daddy has a sparkmate. Lots of other people have sparkmates. So you should, too!"

"Just because others have sparkmates doesn't mean _I_ need one, Roddy. Lots of bots go their entire lives without ever having a spouse."

"But I want a grandma!" Hot Rod complained, yanking Knockout's hand.

The older mech laughed. He picked up the sparkling and swung him onto his shoulders. "Roddy, the last thing you need is someone else spoiling you."

"I'm not spoiled." Hot Rod insisted. But he dropped the subject and made himself comfortable on his new perch. The two walked through the market, looking at the various wares on sale. They examined paint from foreign planets, in exotic colors and iridescent shades. They ogled the latest vehicle models available. Hot Rod's fuel tanks rumbled when they passed a candy stall. His optics sparkled greedily as he stared at the rows of shimmery energon sweets.

"Hungry?" Knockout smirked. He set Hot Rod down in front of the stall. "Why don't you pick a few of these as a snack? And some to take home later."

"Okay!" Hot Rod eagerly began picking out the largest and shiniest sweets. The femme tending the stall chuckled.

"Aren't you just precious? Here, use a bag, honey." She gave Hot Rod a small sack, which he soon had stuffed to the brim. "That'll be five shanix. And here—" She took a crystalline stick of orange energon and handed it to him. "On the house. That means free."

The sparkling gasped, optics sparkling even brighter.

"What do you say, Hot Rod?" Knockout reminded him.

"Thank you!" Hot Rod belted out. He shoved the candy stick in his mouth, engine purring at the flavor. The lady laughed again.

"You're welcome, cutie. I love making sparklings happy." She and Knockout exchanged a few pleasantries while he paid for the candy. Hot Rod, meanwhile, could not take his eyes off the femme. She was bulkier than his mother, and clearly had a wheeled alt-mode rather than a flying one, but he thought she looked pretty enough. She had a wide smile and shiny paint and a nice laugh. And she'd given him candy! For _free_! He glanced back and forth between the femme and his grandfather, an idea forming.

"Thank you again. Let's go, Roddy." Knockout took his hand and turned to leave, but Hot Rod dug in his heels.

"Do you have a sparkmate?" He demanded of the candy-selling femme. Knockout stopped dead, optics practically bugging out of his helm. _Oh no_ …

"Um…no, I don't." The femme told him, taken aback by the question. Hot Rod grinned.

"That'd great! My grandpa doesn't have a sparkmate either! See, Grandpa—" He pointed to the femme, who now looked extremely embarrassed. "You didn't have to find a sparkmate! I found one for you!"

"Oh, heavens…" Knockout sighed under his breath. He picked Hot Rod up again, giving the femme an apologetic look. "So sorry for my grandson—his mouth runs away with him sometimes."

"Wait! It's a great idea! Hey!" Hot Rod protested as he was carried away. He squirmed around and shouted at the femme, waving his candy stick. "He'll call you! I'll make him!"

Knockout gave a mental sigh as he left, walking as briskly as he could. _You're lucky you're cute, kid. Otherwise you might not have survived this long._


	8. Flight of Fancy

**Credit for this chapter idea goes to an unnamed guest reviewer. Whoever you are, thank you!**

* * *

Hot Rod bashed his toy figures together, his imagination turning the clumsy movements into an epic battle. "Take that, Unicron! And that! Boom—ack!" The sparkling cried out as he was suddenly yanked off the ground. His assailant tossed him into the air and caught him again, spinning around. She giggled at his shock.

"How's my favorite bitlet?" Windblade asked, hugging him tightly.

"Mommy!" Hot Rod snuggled into her embrace. "What was that for?"

"I just got so excited to see you. Did I scare you?"

"I never get scared!" The sparkling boasted. Windblade smirked.

"Of course you don't. Silly me." She eyed the fallen action figures. "Whatcha playing?"

"Autobots and Decepticons!" He wriggled out of her grasp and scooped up the figures to show her. "This one's Optimus Prime and he's beating up Unicron because Unicron made a giant zombie dragon attack the Allspark!"

"Oh, really? I don't remember that battle…"

"Grandpa told me about it."

"Ah. I see." Windblade paused, watching him rearrange the figures in their battle poses. "Would you like to keep playing that, or would you like to do something else with Mommy?"

Hot Rod perked up. "Like what?"

"Like…go for a flight?"

Hot Rod gasped. "Yes! Yesyesyes!" He shouted, bouncing up and down. Windblade giggled again. She led him outside and transformed into her alt-mode. Hot Rod clambered into the passenger's seat. He was almost too big for her cockpit, she noticed; he had to curl up into a ball to fit. It seemed like only yesterday he was a tiny newspark she could carry in one hand.

Windblade sighed softly. He was growing up so fast. Before she knew it, he'd be an adult, going off on his own adventures and leaving her and Sideswipe behind. _All the more reason to cherish this time_ , she told herself as she took flight. They circled over the city in a few wide arcs before heading off toward the Crystal Plains. Hot Rod stared out of the cockpit in awe. His optics sparkled at the landscape rushing by beneath them. He showed no discomfort at the cramped seating; as usual, the scenery entranced him.

"Someday, I'm gonna fly all around the galaxy and see cool places like this," he stated, optics still glued to the window. "I'll find new planets, and aliens, and all the best places for racing. I'll see the whole universe."

"I bet you will. You've always been an adventurous little bot." Windblade said with fondness. A surge of melancholy mingled with pride washed over here. Someday soon, Hot Rod would go off on his own, to live his own life.

But he would always be her little sparkling.


	9. Fading

All sparks faded eventually. Every doctor knew that.

Knockout had seen many sparks die in his lifetime, in many different ways—snuffed out in mining accidents, guttered from starvation and exhaustion, blown out of their chamber by laser cannons. And, of course, there were those that simply flickered out from old age. Cybertronians were an exceptionally long-lived species—even the most fragile specimens of their race could easily last a million years. But they weren't immune to the passage of time. Frames rusted, parts seized up, energon curdled. And sparks faded. It was a simple fact of life, one that Knockout had come to terms with long ago.

Or at least, he thought he'd come to terms with it. But now, as he stared at the test results in his hands, Knockout realized the truth. He wasn't ready. He couldn't deal with his own mortality, not when it so suddenly reared its head like this.

He wasn't ready to fade.

* * *

 **Yes, I am evil.**

 **...No, I'm not apologizing.**


	10. Time

**Merry Christmas/Happy Hanukkah/Joyous Kwanzaa. Whatever holiday you celebrate, I hope it's a good one.**

* * *

Cybercriosis.

The word echoed in Sideswipe's head like the ringing of a gong. He gaped at Knockout, speechless, not understanding—not wanting to understand.

"I should have seen it coming, really." Knockout continued, his manner uncharacteristically somber. "Four million years of war takes its toll on one's systems. Throw in exposure to dark energon and all the experiments I did back in the day, and—well, it shouldn't have surprised me."

Sideswipe numbly registered Windblade gripping his arm—her fingertips dug into his plating. Her voice shook as she asked the inevitable question. "How—how long do you have?"

Knockout became even more sober. "At the current rate of degeneration…about three weeks. Give or take a few days."

"No." Sideswipe finally forced himself to speak. Now that he'd broken through the numbness, his mind became a whirlwind. "This can't be right. You look fine, you're acting fine—you beat me in a race just the other day! You can't be sick!"

"That's how cybercrosis works, Sides. It sneaks up on you—most of the time, you don't notice it until the last few days." Knockout sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. The movement made him look old and fragile, like a lightbulb flickering before it burned out. It was _wrong_. Knockout shouldn't be fragile. He shouldn't be tired. He should be fast and snarky and full of life forever, never fading, never changing. This…this shouldn't be happening.

Sideswipe jumped up from his seat. "No! There has to be a cure! Or a treatment, or something!" He gripped Knockout's shoulders, shaking him.

"Sides!" Windblade cried out. Sideswipe ignored her.

"You can't just give up! What about me? What about Roddy?! What will we do if you d—If you—" Sideswipe stuttered. He couldn't bring himself to say the word. Knockout wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a rare embrace. Sideswipe hugged him tight, as if he could disappear at any moment. He choked back a sob. This couldn't be happening. He wasn't ready.

"I'm sorry, mein leben." Knockout whispered. "I wish the situation were different. But…there are some things in life you can't change."

Sideswipe pulled back, optics shining pleadingly as he met his guardian's gaze. "Isn't there anything we can do?" He asked hoarsely.

Knockout gave a small, melancholy smile. "There's plenty we can do, Sides. I'm dying, not dead. Let's put these last three weeks to good use, eh?"


	11. Lullabies Go On

The smell of antiseptic and floor polish washed over Sideswipe as he and his family entered the hospital. It was a familiar smell—Knockout's medbay had always had the same scent. Usually the smell made Sideswipe feel safe, but it brought him no comfort today. Windblade squeezed his hand as they made their way through the halls. Even Hot Rod was quiet. Despite his youth, he understood the gravity of the situation.

Knockout's three weeks were nearly up. It had felt more like three days. Sideswipe wished desperately for a little more time, but deep down, he knew no amount of time would be enough to prepare him for this day.

He wasn't ready. Not for this.

Knockout was reading a datapad when they entered his room. Sideswipe noticed his hands trembling. His legs had stopped working days ago; his transformation cog had seized up long before then. He was breaking down. But still he greeted his family with a smile.

"Sides! Mein leben! Thank you for coming."

"Wouldn't miss it." He forced a smile. Hot Rod clambered onto the hospital bed and snuggled up to his grandpa. Knockout hugged the sparkling tight.

"Good to see you, bitlet. And Windblade—you look fabulous as always." He kissed her hand. Windblade forced a smile.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

"As well as ever, thanks. There's a cute little nurse who's been waiting on me." Knockout smirked roguishly. Sideswipe didn't laugh, though. He couldn't.

"Grandpa?" Hot Rod piped up. He looked at Knockout with wide optics. "Mommy and Daddy said you're going to die. But that's not true, is it?"

A heavy silence fell over the room. Knockout glanced at his son for guidance. Sideswipe couldn't meet his gaze.

"…No. That's not true." Knockotu said, to Sideswipe's shock. He gave his grandson a reassuring grin. "I'm just going on a trip. A long trip. Going to go see some old friends."

"Oh." Hot Rod looked relieved. "So you'll come back soon?"

"We'll…see what happens. But no matter how long I'm gone, I'll be with you here—" Knockout tapped Roddy's spark chamber. "-When you need me most."

The answer seemed to satisfy Hot Rod. The conversation shifted topics. They talked for hours, and the dark cloud receded for a time. Sideswipe mostly listened. He wished this moment could go on forever. But all too soon, a nurse appeared in the doorway. She cleared her throat, looking to Knockout for confirmation.

"I know, it's time." Knockout sighed. He hugged Hot Rod again. "Sorry, bitlet, but it's time for you to go home."

"We'll miss you." Windblade said softly as she pried the reluctant sparkling away. She glanced at Sideswipe, sharing a long look.

"I'll be home in a bit." He assured her. She nodded and led Hot Rod out of the room.

"Bye, Grandpa! Have a good trip!" The sparkling shouted. Knockout waved until he was out of sight. With a sigh, he reclined in his berth. Sideswipe sat silently by his side.

"…You don't have to do this, you know." Sideswipe finally spoke up. "You might still have some time left—"

Knockout shook his head. "I can feel my spark weakening, Sides. I was lucky to last this long. It's better to end it now—quickly and painlessly." He reached for his son's hand. Sideswipe took it and gripped it as tight as he could. "Thank you for being here with me."

"You're welcome, Dad."

A trio of medics came in, and Knockout indicated that they could begin. They went to work silently, disconnecting tubes and shutting off machines. Sideswipe tried not to think about what they were really doing. Anger was rising amidst his grief. Anger at Knockout for not trying to gain more time. Anger at himself for being so helpless. Anger at the universe for allowing this to happen. It wasn't fair.

Knockout squeezed his hand. "It's all right, Sides."

"No, it's not." Tears filled the young mech's optics. He couldn't hold them back any longer. "I'm...I'm not ready for this, Dad."

"Neither am I. But you know what? I didn't think I was ready to be a guardian, either." Knockout smiled. "And that turned out to be the best decision I ever made."

Sideswipe gulped. It wasn't the same. Not at all. But he wasn't going to spend his last moments with his dad arguing.

"I'll miss you." He whispered.

"I'll miss you, too. But as long as you remember me, I'll be with you. Always."

* * *

Windblade paced the floor anxiously. At this rate, she was going to carve a rut into it.

"Is Daddy coming home soon?" Hot Rod asked, looking up from his toy cars.

"It might be a bit longer—" Windblade stopped as she heard a car pull up. She rushed to the door just as Sideswipe stepped inside. His head hung low, and when he did look up, she could see the remnants of tears in his optics.

"Oh, Sides…" She gripped his hands.

"It was quick and painless…just like he wanted." Sideswipe whispered. "Like going into recharge."

"I'm sorry, Sides." Windblade hugged him. He leaned into her embrace, just grateful for her presence. Hot Rod peeked into the room.

"Daddy?"

"Daddy needs some time alone—" Windblade began, but Sideswipe signaled for her to stop. He walked over to Hot Rod and picked the sparkling up.

"Hey, Roddy. It's past your bedtime, isn't it? Come on, let's get you to recharge."

Hot Rod snuggled into his father's shoulder as they headed for the bedroom. "Did Grandpa go on his trip?"

"…Yes. He did."

"I wish he didn't have to go."

"So do I, bud." Sideswipe sighed. He set Hot Rod down on the berth, but the sparkling squirmed to get down.

"I don't want to go into recharge! I'm not sleepy!"

"Oh really?" The ghost of a smile crossed Sideswipe's face. "Maybe a lullaby will change that." He began singing softly. "Good night my angel, now it's time to sleep, and save these questions for another day…"

Memories flowed through him as he tucked Hot Rod into his berth. In his mind's eye, he could see another pouty sparkling being lulled to sleep by the voice of a loving guardian. And he would never forget that guardian. Knockout may be one with the Allspark, but he would always live on in Sideswipe's memory, and the memory of his other loved ones. Sideswipe would make sure he was never forgotten.

"Someday your child may cry, and if you sing this lullaby-" Sideswipe kissed Hot Rod as the sparkling's optics dimmed. "Then in your heart, there will always be a part of me."

 _Someday we'll all be gone, but lullabies go on and on._

 _They never die; that's how you and I will be._

* * *

 **Welp. I cried writing this, so y'all better have cried reading it. Credit to Billy Joel for the song-"Lullaby," one of my favorites.**  
 **Please note: THE STORY IS NOT OVER. My friend journal129 wanted me to add an epilogue, so there'll be one more chapter. You should all go thank her by reading and favoriting her stories.**


	12. End Beginning

**Dedicated to my BRFF-my Best Roleplaying Buddy Forever-journal129. Thanks for betaing.  
Also dedicated to everyone who's read my stories. Your attention and kind words make me happy. **

* * *

Hot Rod stared out at the spaceport. The bots below looked like insects, scurrying around prepping the ship. _His_ ship.

"Thanks for making this possible, Gramps." He muttered. He ran a hand along the window pane. It was a second-hand vessel, an older model. The trust fund his grandfather had left him had been larger than anyone expected, but not nearly large enough for a brand-new ship. Still, the _Lost Light_ functioned and it had plenty of room for a crew. And, most importantly, it was his. As far as Hot Rod was concerned, that made it perfect.

"Everyone thinks I'm crazy, you know," Hot Rod continued talking to thin air. "Even Mom and Dad. We lost contact with the colony planets eons ago; we don't even know if they really exist. People say it's a wild goose chase." He sighed. "Maybe it is. But this isn't just about finding lost colonies. This is about adventure. It's about taking risks. It's about the experience. The destination isn't important; the journey is. I feel like you would have understood that."

Silence answered him. Hot Rod smirked. "Who am I kidding? You would have thought this is insane, too. 'Never do anything that puts your paint job at risk,' you'd say. But you and Mom and Dad always said to follow my dreams, too. And I'm going to, even if they are a little crazy."

He sighed, leaning his forehead against the cool glass. "Miss you, Grandpa."

A knock on the door shook him out of his reverie. A white-and-red mech poked his helm into the room, taking care not to whack his intricate headgear on the frame. "We're almost ready for launch, Hot Rod. Captain's needed on the bridge."

"Coming, Drift." His grin widened at the title of "captain." As he left the room, he glanced back to the window. For a moment, he could see a scarlet mech standing there, his ghostly armor as polished and pristine as it had been in life. The figure gave him a soft smile, red optics glittering. The apparition vanished a second later, but Hot Rod knew he hadn't imagined it. Warmth filled his spark as he headed for the bridge.

 _Thanks for coming, Grandpa. I'll make you proud._

THE END


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